Decisions
by elisheva
Summary: A sequel to 'I Want You Back' but it doesn't require reading past story. Allison Cameron is tired of being used by House. When a new interest appears will House finally make a decision?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A sequel to 'I Want You Back' as some people requested. Not my characters...sadly. Enjoy!**

* * *

As I fixed coffee on Wednesday morning in the office my beeper at my side alerted me of a message. It was from my boss.

_Clinic today. Cover me._

I rolled my eyes before getting my cup ready then sitting at the conference table. I took out my laptop and began to answer the e-mail my employer let pile up.

I had just finished my coffee and the e-mails and was about to get up from more caffeine when my colleague Dr. Eric Foreman walked into the room.

"Morning, Cameron," he greeted me as he made his first stop to the coffee maker.

"Good morning," I answered cheerfully.

"Do we have a case yet?" he asked. "You've checked the e-mails right?"

"Yes, just got done," I told him, "but there was nothing to interest House in them. I referred several to different specialists and one to Wilson."

He placed his mug down then fell into his usual chair. "Great. Another day of nothing."

I smiled at him. "House asked me to do his clinic but you're more than welcome to take them if you are that bored."

He laughed. "No, thanks. It was you he asked, not me." Then he paused and looked at me from atop of the coffee mug he claimed as his. "I seriously doubt House _asked_ you to do anything. Told you perhaps but not asked."

I bristled slightly at his tone. "House knows better than to demand I do something then expect total compliance. The asking part is inferred."

Foreman have me an incredulous look. "In your own twisted way of making House human. That's the only way he would ever appear to give anyone a choice about anything."

I was silent as I glared at him.

"Think of this as an empowerment, Cameron. I am giving you the chance and the ability to tell House 'no' once and for all." He was getting excited and throwing his hands around for emphasize. "House has always known he could use you for his own purposes and you've always let him. Now you claim you no longer have feelings for him--"

"I_ don't_!" I reiterated, lack of anything else to say.

Foreman leaned forward on the table. "Prove it, Cam. After all we've been through I consider you my friend. I'd like to see you rise above the doormat status."

My glare was back. "Thanks, Foreman. I appreciate all the compliments you are throwing my way but I am perfectly capable of telling House to do his own damn work.

The glass door near me slammed open with force as the man himself came inside the room.

Foreman nodded as he steeped his fingers. "Here's your chance."

House stopped in the middle of walking to the coffee maker to look curiously at Foreman. "Chance for what?" he asked.

"Cameron has something to tell you," Foreman said, throwing me to the wolves.

Wolf.

With piercing blue eyes.

Piercing right at me.

I shifted straighter in my chair and met his eyes without waver. "House," I said, "it's time we've come to an understanding."

He raised his eyebrows. "Go on."

"Um, I believe I've worked for you long enough that I deserve the courtesy of you _asking_ me to do things for you, not _demanding_."

He was quiet for a moment while he processed what I just said. Finally he spoke. "And what was I supposed to ask you to do?"

"See your patients in clinic."

House snorted as he went back to the coffee direction. "The question is implied."

I nearly let out a smile for him copying what I said to Foreman earlier but a glance to my co-worker's face kept me stern. "Then the answer is no."

House's smug expression turned to one of surprise. "No?" he repeated in shock.

I was firm. "No. Now, if the two of you would excuse me I am headed to clinics. To do _my_ clinic hours."


	2. Chapter 2

Clinic at Princeton-Plainsboro was not the most fun. The hospital offered a free clinic for all ages and _all_ the doctors had to put in so many hours a month. As far as I knew House was the only doctor who convinced/cajoled/blackmailed his subordinates into doing his hours.

I smiled at the nurse at the clinic station. "Hello, Doreen."

She smiled back. "Hey, sweetie. Who you in for?"

"Myself," I said, proudly.

Doreen frowned as she looked at her screen. "Actually, Dr. Cameron, you're already exceeded your required hours for the month. And I am sure you know they don't roll over. Sorry."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "How many hours does Dr. House need?" I asked with resignation.

She checked her screen once more. "16."

I opened my eyes and sighed again as I dug for the extra badge in my lab pocket. "I'm in for Dr. House then." I took the stack of charts on the counter, made my own pile, then chose the top one to visit first.

A young woman was in the first exam room, coughing when I entered. "Audrey? I'm Dr. House. Sounds like you have a healthy cough there."

She smiled weakly at me. "Yes," she rasped at me. "But I think it has me."

I sat on the stool provided and studied the information sheet the patient has filled out. "So, you've had this cough for about a week, huh?"

"Unfortunately."

"Has it been productive?" She gave me a blank look. "Anything coming up when you cough?"

Audrey nodded at that. "Oh, yes."

"Any color?"

"Yellow. But mostly green."

I listened to her labored breath. After getting the stethoscope out of my ears I rolled around to face her again. "Ok, Audrey, sounds to me like you have an upper respiratory infection. I'd like to get a couple of x-rays to make sure that's all it is then we'll figure out how to make you well."

Audrey mustered a smile. "Thanks, Dr. House."

I smiled as I exited, knowing those words were never uttered by anyone who was treated by the _actual_ Gregory House.

While Audrey was getting her x-rays done for me I went ahead and saw another patient.

George Patterson was in the second room, waiting quietly for me. He had a mysterious rash of no origin he was more than happy to drop his pants for me to see. Years of working under House, who lived to embarrass people, stopped my face from turning any shade of color. I raised my eyebrow to challenge his look of superiority and leaned in for a closer look. "Mr. Patterson, your skin appears to be flaky. It looks dry. How many times a day are you washing this...area?"

"Oh," he said, exuberantly, "like, four or five times a day. You never know when you need to be ready."

I raised my gaze from the over-cleansed area past his portly stomach to his round moon face. "Mr. Patterson, cut down on the washing. The morning shower will be suffice for the whole day. I promise."

I cleared both George and Aubrey and moved on to my third room of the hour. "Mr. Black?"

A young man moved from the exam table to shake my hand. "Please, call me Stephen, Dr..."

"House," I told him, remembering to keep in character. "How can I help you, Stephen?"

The handsome patient settled back onto the semi-comfortable exam table's edge. "I've been having a persistent cough."

"For how long?"

"About two weeks now. I can live with that. But this past weekend I started having chest pains and couldn't breath."

I looked at him. "And you're just now coming in?"

He at least looked abashed. "What can I say- I'm a guy. I put things off."

I good-naturedly rolled my eyes then took my ever-present stethoscope to him. "Breathe in," I told him. After several breaths I was satisfied with my diagnosis. Unfortunately my phone picked that time to ring. I looked at the caller ID and frowned. "Excuse me," I told the patient before taking House's call. "What?" I answered the phone crossly. I noticed Stephen's eyebrows rise at that.

House snorted on the other end. "Is that any way to greet your boss?"

"Hello. Hi. How are you doing? What do you want?"

"Cameron." His voice turned positively whiny at the sound of my name. "That Cuddy monster told me I have some interviews today. You know I hate interviews."

I knew what he wanted. I also knew I would give in to his wants. I sighed. "When?"

"Like five minutes ago, Cameron. I'm afraid to enter my office."

"I'll be there as soon as I finish."

"Cameron," he whined further.

I hung up on him then smiled at the curious Stephen. "Sorry about that. Sometimes my boss can be super needy."

He smiled. "It's ok," he assured me. "I believe you were about to cure me anyway."

I laughed. "Yes and no. I believe you have pleurisy- an infection that causes fluid in the lungs. What I would like to do is give you a prescription for some antibiotics but I'd also like to get a CT scan if you have the time."

He grinned at me. "Aren't you sure you're correct?"

"I am sure. However, my position in this hospital has taught me that many doctors who are sure of themselves can be wrong." I wrote out the script as I spoke. "Get the CT for my piece of mind."

"Will you read the report and call me?"

What would it hurt? "Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Reminder: I do not own House.**

* * *

House greeted me near the elevator bank on our floor. "What took you so long?" he hissed as he saw me. "I thought you would get the idea I needed you right away."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I had to take my patient down to CT. I came as soon as I could but I wasn't going to just abandon the clinic."

"Yeah," he said as we made our way down the hallway, "but I'm your boss. You should _want_ to run to me."

"With a machete in hand?" I asked with a slight smile.

He smirked back down at me then stopped before he was in his office door. In there, back to us, sat a woman with short blond hair. "First victim, Carla Leto. I'm hiding in Wilson's office until further notice."

"Coward," I hissed at him.

"Damn straight," he threw back over his shoulder.

Taking a breath I opened House's door and plastered on a smile as I rounded the applicant and held out my hand. "Carla, hi. My name's Allison."

She shook my hand with a warm smile. "Hello. Thank you for calling me in."

I took off my coat before sitting behind the massive desk I've sat behind many times before. Looking helplessly at the various stacks of paperwork on House's desktop I finally looked apologetically at the woman. "Do you have a copy of your resume? It seems misplaced in all this.

"Sure."

I noticed her long manicured nails and wondered vaguely about what she thought about my unpainted short ones. She found what she was searching for in her tote bag/purse and handed it to me looking confidently. I took the crisp paper and scanned the resume briefly, mildly impressed. I laid the paper in front of me as a point of reference. "I see you just recently graduated from Vanderbilt."

"Yes," she nodded, "within the top fifth percentile of my class."

I removed my glasses so I could look at her. "What made you pick Vandy over all the other medical choices out there?"

If Carla was surprised about my first choice of question for the interview she didn't show it. "Location. My parents live in Memphis and I wanted to stay close to them."

I raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

"I'm willing to put some distance between us with an opportunity this once in a lifetime."

"What type of medicine do you practice?"

"Internal."

I paused at that. "No specialty?"

She smiled. "No, ma'am. Specialists study a specific area of the field while internists see everything."

I clarified some clinical information with her and wound up the interview. "If hired what do you think you can learn or earn from this residency?"

"I can learn all sorts of experience and medical information not always found in books. And I can earn prestige and a foot in the door to anywhere."

I liked her honesty. "What can you bring to the team?"

"A fresh look at cases and the ability to think broad when we have the tendency to sharpen gazes too fast."

I stood and walked her to the elevators. Shaking her soft hand once more I smiled at her. "Thank you for coming, Carla. I've got several more interviews then I'll be giving you a call."

"I hop you do. I look forward to seeing you again, Allison."

I watched the doors close. Was she just flirting with me? I shook my head and made my way back down the hall. I walked straight pass the office down to the end where Dr. James Wilson, oncologist and friend, resided. As I got near the door I could hear the two friends arguing.

"You're nothing but a user of people, House."

"And you, Jimmy, are an enabler. We make a good team."

Any argument Wilson had for him was lost as House noticed me. "Thanks for just passing the buck to me on that interview," I told him but my ire wasn't present.

He just smiled his wicked smile at me. "Only three more to go."


	4. Chapter 4

I didn't think I'd ever been so mad in my life. At 9:00 sharp a man in a suit appeared in the conference room slightly confused.

"Hi," he said to Foreman and I. "I'm Alan Waller. I have a nine o'clock interview with Dr. Gregory House. His light is off. Do you happen to know where he is?"

I glanced at Foreman then stood up. "Here," I said as I led him to House's office and turned on the lights. "I apologize. Please, have a seat and I'll see that someone is here in a minute." I went into the adjoining office, eyes flaming.

Foreman raised a dark eyebrow. "I thought all his interviews were yesterday."

"That's what I was told."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, curiously.

"I'm about to wake him up." I walked into the hall and down to Wilson's office so the poor interviewee didn't know the chaos he caused.

Wilson was there alone. "Good morning, Cameron," he said with a smile.

"Can I use your office for a moment?" I asked, trying to keep my temper in check.

I could see he wanted to find out what was going on but Wilson was too polite to just ask. "Do you need me to leave?"

"Not if you don't mind venting," I told him honestly.

He opted to stay.

House answered on the fourth ring. "This better be important because I was still asleep."

"Then I suggest you get your lying ass out of your damn bed and get the hell up here this second."

Wilson was staring at me as if I grew another head.

House was actually silent for a moment. Finally, he spoke. "Who are you and what did you do with my sweet compliant Cameron?"

"Cut the crap, House."

"What the hell crawled up your ass this morning?" he asked gruffly. "Why are you pissy? I'm never there this early so I'm perplexed as to why you're mad at me. Are you about to start your period or something?"

My back stiffened. "That's not why I'm mad!"

"That's right. We've still got another two weeks before that problem."

I stopped pacing incredulous. "How do you--? No, _why_ do you even know about my menstrual cycle."

"It helps when dealing with women to know when to hide."

I stomped my foot in frustration. "House! Stop distracting me. I really am mad at you this time."

"I could tell," he said, dryly. "Are you ever going to tell me what you're mad about?"

"Interviews! You told me we were done yesterday."

"We _were_ done _yesterday_."

"You've got a damn doctor waiting to talk to you about his resumé right now! Where are you?"

"Duh, in bed."

"Damnit, Greg. Get up here now and deal with this!"

"How about you deal with this and tell me all about it when I come in."

I wanted to choke him but he wasn't there. I decided to just yell. "No! You're the boss. This is _your_ job and this is not going away no matter how long you lay your lazy butt in bed."

He was quiet for a minute. "Looks like Foreman just got something to do today."

"House, no! Listen to me. You handle this problem or I'm out of here."

We all seemed to freeze at those words. They had slipped out in anger but I knew I would be forced to follow them if it came down to it.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," he said, then hung up.

Wilson was looking at me with wide eyes. "Uh, did you just threaten to leave if House doesn't handle his interviews?"

I sunk into the chair, staring at my phone. "I think I just did."

He let out a breath. "It's going to hit the fan."

"I know," I said mournfully then jumped as my pager went off. "A patient is requesting me downstairs."

"Good luck."

After stopping by the office and assuring Alan that House was on his way, he had just experienced some car trouble, I went downstairs to find a handsome patient at the nurses' station. I had to smile. "Mr. Black."

He smiled back. "Please, Stephen. But I apparently didn't catch your name."

I chuckled. "Dr. Allison Cameron."

"Ah. That explains why I received weird looks when I asked for the beautiful Dr. House."

"You rang?" the doctor himself appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

I made myself smile at him. "I believe you have business awaiting upstairs."

House glanced at Stephen then his eyes connected with mine. "I believe I need to borrow you for a moment, Dr. Cameron."

I resisted glaring. "My business is down here with Mr. Black at the moment, Dr. House."

"Just one moment," he insisted then grabbed my wrist to urge me to go with him.

"Excuse me for one moment, Stephen," I said over my shoulder.

"I'll wait," he assured me.

I shook House's grip but obediently followed him into an empty clinic room.

After closing the door he turned to me.

I randomly noticed his Foo Fighters shirt and blue jeans.

"Apparently we have a big problem between us," he started.

I pushed my hair behind my ear and jutted my chin. "I'm proud of you for actually addressing this problem instead of ignoring the elephant in the corner."

He smirked. "Pink elephant."

"Ah, a girl." I couldn't resist.

"Well, this problem isn't good, Cameron."

I crossed my arms. "Actually, it's very easy to fix. _You_ do _your_ job and I'll do mine."

He took a step closer. "I'm proud of you for growing a spine."

I smiled. "Thank you, House."

Another step. "That said I need an employee that will help me with all my priceless duties. If you can't do that I don't need you."

I knew he was meeting my bluff but tears still came to my eyes. "You would fire me?" It came out sounding pitiful.

He was standing directly in front of me now. "You threatened to leave."

"You asked me to come back."

He actually brushed a stray tear off my cheek. "I asked so you would be there when I needed help."

"But I'm doing _all_ of it, House."

"But I hate interviews." That came out as a whine.

His blue eyes always mesmerized me. "House, I don't want to leave." I need you, I silently added, admitting to myself the power he had.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his soft brown hair. "How about I just sit in."

A compromise. Interesting. "You," I said as I put a finger on his chest, "have to do some as lead," I insisted.

He pouted. "Fine. _Some_." He took my hand in his warm big hand and held it up so my pinky was showing. "I'll not be wrapped around this," he said, gruffly.

With butterflies in my stomach I laced my fingers in his. "It seems only fair since I'm yours."

It came out weird but House's eyes turned darker and he stepped so our chests were touching. The butterflies fluttered intensely and my breath quickened as I looked at him.

"You can't leave me," he half whispered as he angled his face to mine.

I licked my lips and his gaze went there.

He moved towards me so slowly but instead of arching to him I was frozen in my spot.

I could feel his breath on my face. I could feel those soft lips on mine while he was still inches away.

Like in every book and movie we were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

House swore under his breath then went to the door to open it as he glared at the interrupter.

The poor nurse gulped at him. "I'm sorry. I thought this was someone else's room."

House glowered. "So, why are you still here?"

I went to the door. "Excuse me. I need to check on my patient." As I walked back to the patiently waiting I noticed House following me. I rolled my eyes.

Stephen stood to greet me but looked red and out of breath. Still he smiled slightly. "Had a cough attack while you were away."

"Your results are upstairs. I haven't had a chance to look at them. Come upstairs," I urged, not wanting to leave him hanging.

"I hope we don't have to climb," he joked weakly.

House, apparently tired of being ignored, hit his cane on the ground. "Does it _look_ like we're climbing stairs?"

I gestured to him. "Stephen, _this_ is Dr. House."

Stephen chuckled. "I suppose I see the confusion."

I smiled. "Come on. Let's go to my office and cure you for good."

House just rolled his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

House was kind enough to not only hold the elevator but to scare off other people who thought about actually making the ride with us. Once the doors closed he tried to stare down Stephen. "So, what's _your_ story?"

Stephen, for his credit, didn't flinch but he did look slightly overwhelmed. "Uh, I'm sick and Allison is treating me."

House lifted an eyebrow at me before looking back at Stephen. "And what did _Dr. Cameron_ diagnose you with?"

"Uh..."

"Pleurisy," I supplied.

The elevator came to our floor and House led the way to his office.

"Alan Waller," I told him as I showed Stephen the next door down.

"Where are you going?" he asked me, testily.

I stepped closer to him and looked up. "I'll be in there as soon as I'm done with Stephen," I said, quietly.

He looked over my head at him and growled.

I shoved him into his office then went into mine. Foreman was not present- I wondered if he was catching up on clinic hours or gossip with Wilson.

"Please, sit down," I told Stephen then went to gather the test results from my desk. I studied them for a moment before smiling at Stephen as I took a seat beside him.

He smiled back. "Would you like a drum roll?"

I laughed. "Totally not necessary but I was correct."

"You're awesome!"

I blushed. "It looks like the course of action is to continue taking the antibiotics until they are finished. Oh, and no smoking."

"You're killing me, woman! Besides," he added, "not my thing, you know?"

The doctor in me couldn't resist. "There's just so many health risks involved it shouldn't be."

Stephen's smile widened. "So, how do I repay you for this?"

"Just finish your meds and don't end up in the ER."

"How about dinner instead?" he asked.

I stopped, frozen. I didn't expect that and wasn't sure of what to say. Luckily, I was saved from answering by House's adjoining door being flung open.

"Cameron!" House yelled, making me jump. "Come in here. And bring that dancing monkey boy in here with you."

I rolled my eyes but welcomed the well-timed interruption. "It seems Dr. House is requesting our presence."

Stephen snorted. "Was that what that was?" but he good-naturedly walked with me to the next office.

House was looking menacing behind his desk while his interviewee looked more than slightly scared. He indicated that I join him so I walked up to him, curious as to what he was up to. "Wall-E, I believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my auto-immune specialist Dr. Cameron."

Alan Waller nodded slightly and fidgeted in his chair.

House gestured to Stephen. "This is her patient she's specifically been working with. We'll call him Dumb Ass Patient, DAP for short, to be HIPPA compliant."

Both Stephen and Waller looked put out so I hid my smile.

House continued. "As you know, Wall-Eye, my team specializes in diagnosing a patient who has tried all avenues and is still on their death bed. They come to us after all other doctors have failed to diagnose and treat them. To join my team you have to confidently know all rare illnesses. Please keep in mind that diagnoses are hard to come by with these patients because patients tend to lie."

I glanced at him, fearing I knew what he was up to but powerless to stop the test.

"DAP here came to Dr. Cameron because he had nowhere else to go. Luckily, she has caught his illness in time and, with proper medications he is able to walk himself out of here. What I want you to do is to tell me what's wrong with Mr. DA, tell me the tests you'd use to confirm your diagnosis and what medications he needs to be on."

Waller looked over-whelmed. "But, Dr. House, I'm not an Immunologist."

"I don't care," he snapped. "I require my team to be _medical_ specialists. Why is DA here?"

"Go to the couch," I suggested.

"Right, DA," House agreed. "Lie down as if in a hospital bed. Most of our patients come like that. And remember, everyone lies."

Waller moved his chair closer to the "bed" and started talking to Stephen.

I sat on House's desk and leaned down to whisper to him. "You are so wrong for this."

He smirked, keeping an eye and ear on our test subjects. "Any doctor should be able to diagnose your patient."

"Do you think you blew enough smoke up his ass?"

"I told him everyone lies," he pointed out.

"How long has your chest been aching?" Waller asked Stephen.

"If he diagnoses him correctly will you hire him?" I wanted to know.

"Is there any type of blood disorders or lupus in your family?"

House rolled his eyes. "Always lupus. Jesus. He's so far off base. But, no, I wouldn't hire him anymore than I'd hire that dumb ass patient of yours."

"Are you currently taking any blood thinners?"

"Don't call him a dumb ass," I hissed at him. "He is, after all, smart enough to ask me on a date." It slipped out but the look on House's face was worth it.

"What did you say?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I haven't decided yet."

He snorted. "Well, it can't be that hard to say 'no', Cameron. You've been practicing on me all day."

"I might say 'yes' to him."

"Why? You've cured his illness."

"For the last time, House, that's not why I--" I stopped as I realized the mock people were staring at me. I lowered my voice. "You're an ass. And I'm way past trying to get you to be a better person because you always will be an ass."

He had the audacity to smirk at me. "Yes, but that's why you like me."

"_Liked_," I stressed.

His blue eyes shined. "That why you almost kissed me?"

I could have strangled him. I could have gladly watched him take his last breath and never be happier. "I was weak. You are a good kisser."

I think he almost flushed before he turned his attention to Waller. "What'd you got?"

Waller did flush. "I need more time."

"Dr. Cameron solved this in two minutes."

Waller glared at me. "She's had more experience."

"You've not been out of school as long," House shot back. "What'd you got?"

"I've narrowed it down to either bronchial adenoma or pulmonary fibrosis. Without tests I can't conclude which--"

House looked at the results I had brought with me. "How about a CT?" He snatched them from me and waved them at Waller.

Waller stood and looked over them. "Pleurisy?" He looked at me. "Why did your team have this case?"

House smirked again. "We didn't. I said Dr. Cameron did."

"The patient had no where else to go!"

"Free clinic," House told him. "But for the record we do sometimes get slipped easy cases that other doctors just miss."

After Waller stormed out, much to the joy of House, I walked Stephen to the door.

"Thank you for helping," I told him.

He grinned. "I figured it's help my cause. Have you given thought to my suggestion?"

I smiled. "Yes. I would love to go to dinner with you." And in pettiness I said it loud enough House could hear.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Reminder: not my characters. And I wanted to take the time to thank everyone who reads my stories. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!**

* * *

I watched a sharply dressed woman exit the elevators and head our way. I turned to my coworker. "I don't know who's scheduling these people early in the morning but it needs to stop."

Foreman raised an eyebrow at me over his morning paper. "If you're going to call and scream at House I want to be a part of that. Wilson said yesterday morning was the most entertaining event in a long time."

The woman stood by our door so I looked triumphantly at Foreman and waved her in. "Good morning," I said as I smiled and extended my hand. "Would you like some coffee before we get started?"

The tall brunette looked around the room while she shook her head no.

"Dr. House's office is right through there."

She finally looked at me. "Thank you," then proceeded to make herself at home in there.

"You interviewing her?" Foreman wanted to know. "I thought you told House to go throw himself off of a bridge."

"House and I came to an agreement yesterday," I told him.

He rolled his eyes. "I knew it. I knew you'd back down _once again_."

I straightened my back. "What House and I decide is really none of your damn business. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to see if this doctor would be a nice fit to our team."

"Make sure she's not going to kiss his feet," he shot at me. "One of you is quite enough."

I wanted to turn around and slap him. Or at least give him the finger. Instead I took the adult way and ignored him as I walked into House's office. I hid my anger behind a smile as I sat once more behind the big boss' desk. "I'm Dr. Allison Cameron. I want to take this opportunity to thank you for your interest in the residency."

"Dr. Emma Palmer," she introduced herself. "May I ask where Dr. House is?"

I had been expecting this from someone. "Dr. House will be here shortly. He's just asked me to get the process started. Now, do you have your resume?"

"Of course," she told me. "But Dr. House already has a copy of it."

I forced myself to relax my jaw before my teeth gritted. Instead I gestured to the desk I had cleared off the day before. "I'm sorry but it seems Dr. House has misplaced it. Perhaps you can hand me your copy so he has something to look at."

Seeming reluctant she reached into a folder she had with her and gave it to me. "I was under the impression my interview would be with Dr. House."

"_If_ you're hired you will learn that Dr. House is fond of delegating his tasks to others." I glanced at her school and smiled. "Tell me, does Dr. Mathers still haunt the halls, lecturing passersby?"

"Dr. Cameron," she said, "I don't mean to be rude but I'm not here to socialize or be friends, I'm here about a residency. I believe I'd like to wait for Dr. House to do this interview."

I took off my glasses to look straight at her. I wanted to warn her about House's mercurial states but I was in the mood that it would be more amusing to see it happen. I was also in the position where I saw him at that time, noted he was early and had a chart in his hand- meaning he would be pissed.

He stormed into his office, causing Dr. Emma Palmer to jump high out of her seat.

"Good morning, Dr. House," I had to say.

He snarled at me. "There's _nothing ever_ good about the mornings." He slung the chart at me then started to the conference room but stopped. "Who the hell is this?" he asked me, pointing with his cane.

"Dr--" she started.

"I didn't ask you," he snapped. "I asked her."

I handed him her resume. "Your 9:30."

He threw the paper down. "Get rid of her. We've got a case."

She daringly followed us into the conference area. "But, sir, I was promised proper time with you."

House raised his eyebrows at her. "You want proper time with me?" He took the folder from me and shoved it in her hands. "Solve this case."

Foreman perked up. "We have a case?"

House rolled his eyes. "Well, duh, chief. That's why I'm here bright-eyed, bushy-tailed with a nice shiny folder in my eager hands." He turned to Palmer and snapped his fingers. "A diagnosis before the patient _dies_ would be good for business," he snapped at her.

She protested. "This patient is complaining of back pain, shoulder pain, and has generalized anemia. I can't make a diagnosis from that."

"Try," he growled. "Your time's almost up."

"Which shoulder?" Foreman wanted to know.

"Left," she answered. "MI?"

I jumped in. "A heart attack would be more symptomatic and has probably already been ruled out. What else is on the left side of the body?"

"Pancreas, stomach, spleen," she told me.

"Splenomegaly explains the pain," Foreman said.

Palmer thought. "But that's not a diagnosis, it's a symptom."

House clapped his hands. "Confirm the symptom, add it to the list, cure the patient. Get to work. Impress me, people." He headed to the hallway.

"House!" I called and rushed to catch up.

He hadn't slowed down but he wasn't moving fast either. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"If she solves this are you going to hire her?" I blurted out.

Despite his mood he snorted and smirked. "I see you have priorities, Cameron. What's the matter with her?"

I shrugged, noting we were Wilson-bound. "She has an attitude," was all I could think to say.

"So does Foreman. So do I. What's your point?"

I couldn't come up with one.

We had reached Wilson's door. House laughed. "You're jealous. Priceless, Allison." Before I could respond he had closed Wilson's door between us.


	7. Chapter 7

Through a series of x-rays and a CT we did confirmed that our patient did have an enlarged spleen. That, however, opened up too many possibilities to ponder on a Friday date night. We told Palmer what she needed to do to get the patient set for the night then Foreman and I walked out. I avoided House because his all-seeing eyes would ferret out my date with Stephen.

I picked out a royal blue dress that complimented my dark brown hair and fair skin. He was right on time wearing khakis and a polo shirt.

He handed me into his nice sized car. I smiled when he got in himself. "Where are we going?"

"This little place I know. You like Italian?"

"Of course!"

It was a cozy little place that had candles in the middle of the table but Americanized style menus. I opted for tea instead of wine. "I have to go to work tomorrow," I explained.

He looked appalled. "Work? On a Saturday?"

I shrugged. "Patients are so unthoughtful to get sick on the weekends," I teased.

He rolled his eyes. "I, thankfully, am on the road to recovery."

"Yes," I agreed, "all thanks to the wonderful doctor who treated you."

"Yes, thank Dr. House for me when you get there tomorrow."

Although I barely made a dent in my pasta and filled the take home carrier, Stephen insisted on dessert.

"What kind do you want?" he asked me, looking at the menu.

We were in the middle of pitching out favorite dessert dish to each other when someone came to our table. "Allison?"

I quickly looked up and tried not to groan. "Robert, hey." I decided not to be rude. "Stephen Black, this is a colleague of mine, Dr. Robert Chase."

They shook hands. "Do you also work under Dr. House?" Stephen asked.

Chase made a face. "No, mate," he said, his Australian accent shining through. "Not anymore. Got the pleasure of meeting him then?"

"Yep," Stephen grinned. "Pleasant fellow."

Chase snorted and I noticed him wobble a little. "Always best to know your competition I say."

My date looked confused. "Excuse me?"

Chase grinned at me. "Oh, she didn't tell you that she'd just as soon jump in his bed as take a breath?"

I jumped to my feet quickly and grabbed his arm to pull him away from the table. "Robert Chase," I hissed, "that is most inappropriate and uncalled for. Please tell me you aren't here alone."

He looked insulted. "Of course not."

I had managed to get him away from the table and close to the front door. "Wait for her here. Stay away from me." Then I marched back to the table and smiled at Stephen. "I'm sorry," I told him.

"No problems. He was drunk, right?"

"Most definitely. Now, how about dessert?"


	8. Chapter 8

When I arrived at work the next morning Foreman was already there, reading the paper. He looked up at my entrance and smiled. "You're later than normal. Good date last night?"

I scowled as I started fixing the coffee. "As a matter of fact, no, it was not."

He closed his paper. "Well, what happened? House was being extra nasty about this guy so I figured it was a good match."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that but I ignored it. "Oh, the guy is nice- great in fact. And the date was good. Until _your friend_," I stressed as my voice grew louder in anger, "Robert Chase decided he was going to walk over to my table drunk as anything, insist on being introduced, and then made rude comments I couldn't explain."

House always had impeccable timing as he waltzed through the door, took one look at my face, and smirked. "Bad date, huh?"

I pointed my finger at him. "This is all your fault," I told him.

His eyebrows went up. "My fault? I didn't pick out DA for your boyfriend. And I didn't even go spy on you."

Foreman snickered. "No, you didn't have to. Chase did that himself."

House's face lit up. "Chase was there?"

"Drunk."

I glowered. "Shut up, Foreman. You're not helping. And I wouldn't be surprised if you did sic Chase to ruin my date, House. It seems like something twisted and mean you would do."

He snorted. "It would have been brilliant if I had thought of it. But I take no credit for a drunken wallaby crashing the party. I take it there wasn't just a casual nod across the dining room?"

I gritted my teeth before exploding. "He came to my table and pretty much insinuated that everyone besides you comes second because I would drop everything to be your whore!"

Foreman choked on his coffee while House dared to laugh.

"It's not funny, House!" I yelled at him. "I rarely have a chance to meet people and when I finally do that jackass ex-employee of yours ruins it because now Stephen thinks I've either had, am having, or will be having sex with my boss. He didn't even walk me to my door."

"Well, hell, Cameron, I even did that."

That made me snort. "Did you? I seem to recall trying to get to my door before I cried while you came behind me hollering down the hall something about me coming back to work the next day."

He shrugged. "What can I say, Cameron, I can't be blamed for your poor choices in men. You should have never slept with Chase."

"Oh, bite my ass, Greg."

"Interesting offer, Allison." He glanced at us then the white board. "Where's that other girl?"

She scared us by clearing her throat, hidden behind House's tall frame. "I'm here." She stuck out her hand, coffee in the other. "Dr. Emma Palmer."

She must have snuck in while the words were being exchanged and I flushed as I realized what she had probably heard.

House ignored her extended hand in favor of the other. "While you are doing this working interview you _can_ drink our coffee."

She glanced at the pot. "No, thanks. I'm sure it's not decaf."

"You drink decaf?" the three of us said in unison horror.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" House added.

She just took a drink of her poison. "I supposed it's just personal preference."

House switched gears. "You're late."

"I wasn't told a time to get here," she argued as she moved around him to have a seat at the table.

"Get here before me," he told her. "If I'm here, you're late. Now, about this patient." He went to the dry erase board and studied the scant diagnoses.

Since I was closest to the coffeemaker I pulled down one of House's mugs- this one with the saying 'I'm not a smartass I'm just too intelligent for you to understand' and made him a cup like I knew he liked it.

He accepted it without a word. "Ok," he finally said, "these symptoms suck. Give me something else to work with."

"Initial complete blood work shows abnormalities all over," Foreman said as he handed the print out over to him.

I spoke up. "Blood count anomalies, enlarged spleen, he experienced some shortness of breath while we were with him last night that _may_ be pericarditis. SLE."

House looked like he wanted to throw the marker in his hand at me while Foreman started laughing beside me. "For Christ's sake, Cameron," House told me. "Not everybody has lupus."

"Lupus is a common auto-immune disease, House, and--"

He interrupted me with a pithing look. "Oh, spare me the medical lesson," he said. "_It's not lupus_!"

Palmer finally spoke up, us having forgotten about her. "Excuse me, but can anyone explain what's so funny about lupus?"

Foreman managed to sober up enough to speak for himself. "It's just...well...Cameron or whoever always says lupus and House always gets mad..." He looked at Palmer's blank face. "I guess you'd have to be there."

She sat up straighter. "I don't see what is so hilarious about such a debilitating disease."

House rolled his eyes. "Get off your high horse."

She bristled at him. "My mother has lupus."

He growled. "If someone else utters the word 'lupus' from this moment on I will not hesitate to shove this marker so far down your throat you could write when you sit down." He glared at each of us before finally turning back to the board. "Shortness of breath." He put it to the side of the other symptoms then added low grade fever at the bottom.

"When did he start running a fever?" I asked.

"Somewhere between your date being good and your date being bad moment," he told me sarcastically. "What have we got?"

We all three pitched ideas:

"Hepatitis C."

"Sarcoidosis."

"Malaria."

"Psittacosis."

"Kala-azer."

"Syphilis." House liked that one.

"Amyloidosis."

"Mono."

"Brucellosis."

"Subacute bacterial endocarditis."

"Tuberculosis."

House wrote the ones to consider and harshly bashed the others. Finally, he looked satisfied. "Cameron, take Palmer and draw the patient's blood. That should confirm or deny most of these. Foreman, once they're done I want you to tell me why he is short of breath- is it a symptom or a side effect?"

Palmer looked a little overwhelmed as we made our way to our patient. I took pity on her. "Don't worry. Sometimes he doesn't mean everything he says."

She looked at me. "Is he always that...intense?"

I laughed. "Always. He strives to keep you on your toes."

"How long have you worked with him?"

I had to think. "Nearly five years. But even with that I took a break and worked in the ER for a while."

"But you went back?"

"He asked me to," I told her simply.

Once we were in the lab she turned to me once again. "I'm used to seeing technicians."

"House demands us do our own work. He trusts nobody else to do it right. Actually, he barely trusts us," I said with a smirk."

"Um," She seemed embarrassed. "Lab work isn't my strong point."

"That's ok. That's why he sent me along." I started to sit down but she placed her hand on my arm to stop me.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday. Nothing I can say will excuse my rudeness but I was eager to meet Dr. House."

I smiled. "I understand. He has that about him. Now, let's make him less grumpy and get this done, shall we?"

When Palmer and I made it back to the conference room with our findings we saw House and Cuddy in his office in the middle of WWIII. They were screaming loud enough at each other we could hear most of what they were saying.

"You can't keep _doing_ this, House. It has to stop right now."

He was sitting behind his desk glaring up at his boss. "You can't keep coming in my office demanding I stop something I know nothing about!"

"Don't lie to me, House. What you're doing is borderline criminal and if he wants to press charges I'm completely out of it."

"Good! This is none of your business anyway."

"This is _my_ hospital. Everything is my business."

"I'll stop when he does."

"Jesus, House." The rest was spoken in normal tones.

He opened his mouth to respond but noticed us staring through the glass. He said something curt to Cuddy then came into the room with us.

"Everything ok, House?" I had to ask.

"Fine. What do you have?"

"Well, we've ruled out--"

"I wasn't asking what you didn't have," he viciously snapped and I flinched from his tone. "What do you have?"

I refused to step back from his menacing figure although Palmer did. "What we have is negative blood work."

He stuck his hand out and looked over the results. "For them all?"

"For everything we tested for."

"Well, test for something else," he growled.

Palmer stepped up. "For what? We've tested every blood disease we could think of." I gave her silent props for have some nerves of steel to be able to talk back to House.

Foreman's arrival saved her from the wraith of House. "Got something."

Our boss' head immediately looked to his direction. "Well? You waiting for a written invitation?"

Foreman, as used to House's moods as I was, didn't even blink. "Echocardiogram showed calcification in the aortic valve."

House looked towards the white board again. "Our patient Jewish?"

Palmer snorted. "That's hardly a symptom."

The three of us ignored her. "Gaucher's?" I asked, studying House's features closely.

"Go get a better family history," he told me. "Once you confirmed he's a German Jew ancestor schedule him for a splenectomy, blood transfusion, and then contact the CGC to see about a transfer."

Palmer blinked. "CGC?"

"Comprehensive Gaucher Center," I answered. "More than likely the patient will need enzyme replacement therapy. Something the CGC specializes in."

"And just like that the patient is released?"

House glared at her. "The patient will be able to leave as soon as you get your ass moving."

With House in a mood we moved quickly to get away from his anger.


	9. Chapter 9

I found myself in James Wilson's office shortly after discharging out patient. I was sitting with my knees together, feet apart, leaning over with my elbows on my thighs. Wilson was on the phone.

"Yes, Mrs. Bondani, it is good news. Remission does not necessarily mean 'cure' but it is always a good sign." He got off the phone and gave me an apologetic look. "They tend to ramble when faced with good news after so much bad."

I smiled at him. "It's no problem. It's not like I scheduled an appointment to talk to you. I just walked in."

He returned the smile as he looked at me from behind his desk. "I heard about your date, Cameron."

My smile fell. "House has a big mouth."

"He was over-enthused about the turn of events. But I wouldn't worry. If this Stephen has any brains he will call you soon."

Wilson had a way of cheering me up. I leaned forward more and grinned mischievously. "I'm here for gossip."

Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "On what?"

His innocent expression didn't fool me. "House and Cuddy had a knock down drag out no holds bar fight. I want details."

He couldn't keep the smile off his face. "What makes you think I have the answers?"

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Wilson, please. If I know House he was probably bitching about it twenty seconds after it happened and if I know you you're more than eager to spill it."

Of course I was right. "Ok, fine. You know that House claimed that first parking space in front of the door?"

I nodded. "The only one not handicapped but everyone is afraid to take?"

"Yep. Dr. Samuel Argus took it."

I gasped appropriately. "The new endocrinologist?"

"Right. Argus gets here earlier than House and since it's not an actual handicap spot Argus has laid claim."

I sucked in a breath. "And there's nothing House can do."

Wilson grinned at me wickedly. "House always finds ways."

Wilson's balcony door opened and the very man we were discussing came into the room. He saw me and lifted his eyebrows. "Are we having a girl scout meeting?" he asked sarcastically.

"Of course," I told him. "We are glad our leader could join us."

Wilson snorted and even House's mouth twitched up. "I'm almost ready, House," Wilson told him. "Just let me note this chart."

I took my hint and stood. "Well, guys, have a good night." I was almost out of the door when Wilson said my name, stopping my progress.

"Have any plans tonight?"

When I turned I saw what looked like the end of a silent battle between the friends. Curious, I tilted my head slightly. "Not really. Just relaxing at home with a book."

"Ugh," House commented.

Wilson brightened. "Come with us. We're going to have a few drinks down at Sullivan's."

I looked at House's face to see his thoughts on the subject but he had a closed expression. "Alright," I told them. "I'll come for a drink." 


	10. Chapter 10

Sullivan's was a bar a mere block away from the hospital that was used as an outlet by many of the doctors and staff at Princeton-Plainsboro. When we got there I recognized a few faces as I followed Wilson and House to a round table in the middle of the floor with bar stools around it.

After we gave our drink orders to the waitress Wilson turned excitedly to House. "I was able to tell a woman her treatment was working."

House rolled his eyes. "You're fighting a losing battle, Jimmy. She'll be back in less than six months."

Wilson was not deterred. "But that's six months more she has to live."

"And she'll spend every day worrying about her cancer coming back."

They paused as our drinks arrived- House's whiskey, Wilson's martini, my margarita- before Wilson responded. "Every day my parent doesn't die offers them another chance."

House snorted. "You sound like a Tell-a-Thon."

"You sound like a jackass."

I looked to the men, House to my left, Wilson to my right. "We diagnosed our patient today."

Wilson smiled at me. "I heard. That was record time." He turned to House. "Are you going to hire that doctor?"

He shrugged as he drank his whiskey. "Haven't made my mind up yet. Cameron feels threatened by her presence."

My face turned red. "I do not! I could care less if she's on the team."

His blue eyes looked at me over his glass rim. "Do you want her on the team?"

I nearly choked on my tequila. "Are you asking me my opinion?"

"If I don't have your opinion I can't discount it," he easily said back.

"I think you're just tired of interviews," I told him.

"I think you're avoiding the question."

I drank some more as I thought. "Fine," I finally told him. "I think she might work on the team. Foreman and I could certainly use more help around there."

"Fine," he repeated then turned his eyes to Wilson as the latter's beeper went off. He excused himself to use his cell phone but we didn't have to wait long.

He came back and threw some dollars on the table. "I've got an emergency."

"Told you," house said.

Wilson glared at him. "Not the same patient, Greg. Bye, Cameron."

"Bye," I responded back.

Once Wilson was gone House and I sat, staring at each other in silence. Finally, I finished my drink and stood. "Well, thanks for inviting me."

House looked up surprised. "Where are you going?" he demanded to know.

"Home..."

"Why?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Uh, Wilson just left."

"I'M still here," he told me.

I chuckled. "Are you wanting me to stay?"

He shrugged again. "If I wanted to drink alone I would be drinking at home."

I sat back down and watched as House got our waitress' attention and reordered our drinks.

While I was working on my third drink I started laughing at something House said dryly, making him raise an eyebrow.

"You a lightweight, Cameron?"

I grinned at him. "Not really. Just glad to be out."

He actually smiled back then I noticed his eyes flick over my shoulder and he stiffened as someone walked up.

"Well, well."

I groaned as I recognized Chase's voice for the second time in two nights.

"Isn't this cozy, Allison," he continued. "Weren't you just blasting me out for this exact situation?"

I looked up at him with a glare. "You're stooping to a new low now, Chase. You shouldn't stalk your exes."

His eyes flashed angrily. "And you shouldn't sleep with your boss."

"Cameron!" House jumped in mockingly. "You're sleeping with your _boss_?"

"According to someone who's not even in my life anymore," I commented.

"I couldn't compete with _him_ anymore," Chase said bitterly. "I wanted to warn the other guy before he got in deep like me."

I was getting mad. "Just go away, Chase. Leave me alone."

"I can't do that, Cameron. I still care."

"I don't, Chase! And, trust me, the sex is much better now than you ever were!" The last part slipped out quite loudly from my mouth.

Chase turned bright red and shifted towards me. House's cane came up, stopping his progress. Chase looked down then back at me. "I hope you get everything you deserve," he growled before stalking away.

House just rolled his eyes and snorted. "That the best he could do?"

I felt people's eyes looking at us. "I think I've had enough fun for tonight."

House surprised me by not letting me pay, claiming it was all on Wilson's tab anyway. Then we walked back to the hospital parking lot.

"I hope Wilson's ok," I commented.

"He's fine," House told me. "He's just putting his own panties in a wad."

"He could have a patient in trouble," I reminded him.

"Who cares? It's nobody you know."

I rolled my eyes. "It's called empathy towards your fellow man."

"It's called pathetically caring for people who could give a crap less about you."

We had made it to my car by then. I leaned against my door and crossed my arms. "Even if you don't give a 'crap less' about anyone people do care."

House rolled his eyes. "So typical, Cameron. Why do you always need proof that people like you?"

"How did this conversation turn from me caring about a patient because that's _my job_ to you being an ass and trying to hurt my feelings?"

"I'm not here to make you feel good about yourself," he told me, stepping closer as another person walked to their car next to mine.

This time I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't dream of asking that of you," I told him, sarcastically. "Or anything for that matter, House."

He was nonplussed. "Oh, you can ask, Cameron."

"What's the point when you'll just have the pleasure of saying no?"

"You never know, Cam. I might surprise you." He leaned in to put his face to my level.

My over-alcoholed mind kicked into overdrive and I reacted by moving closer myself.

Our lips met and I registered his warm soft mouth molding to mine before we guiltily jumped apart at the sound of our names.

Wilson appeared and I was happy the darkness of the night covered the hot blush of my face. "Are we done already?" he asked, oblivious to what he interrupted.

"I'm tired," I told him. "House walked me back."

Wilson turned to House. "Are we still on?"

House glanced at me for a split second then to his friend. "Yeah. Let's go."

Wilson smiled at me. "Be careful, Cam."

House didn't say anything as they walked their way back to Sullivan's.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry it is taking me so long to post. I will do better!! I promise! Enjoy.**

* * *

"Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?" Foreman suggested to me.

I turned to look at him, confused. "What?"

He gestured to me. "You've cleaned that coffee pot three times already."

I glanced to the pot in one hand and the soapy sponge in the other. I had been cleaning and rearranging the counter since I had arrived at work.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

I sat the coffee pot down and went to sit at the table near him. "Am I overreacting to Chase's insensitivity?"

Foreman patted my hand in a friendly gesture. "Ah, Cameron. You're not bummed about that guy are you? There will be others if this guys lets you go."

I sighed. "That's what Wilson said but it's not just that. He found House and I having a drink then gloated about how he was right to send Stephen away."

He did a double take. "You and House were having drinks?"

"Yes, but--"

"And you can't understand Chase finding you as irony?"

I held my hand up to stop his talking. "Wilson was there."

"At your table?"

I frowned. "Well, no. He had left to take care of a patient. He was coming back."

"So, you were out getting drinks with _House_."

"And Wilson."

"You were sitting calmly, probably having a good time with the very bane of our existence."

"No, that would be Chase for me at the moment. And what part of 'and Wilson' is not comprehending in your otherwise intelligent mind?"

"Hm."

We both saw House exit the elevator at the same time, interrupting our discussion as we ogled each other in shock.

"You're here early," I blurted out as he entered our room from his office where he had discarded his always present backpack.

He glanced at the clean counter then back at me. "Yet there is no coffee."

I looked at him evenly. "Then I suggest you make your own."

He blinked at me. Then sighed. "I guess I'll have to teach new girl what I like."

I glared at him, know what he was doing while Foreman sat up in curiousness. "New girl?" he asked.

House adopted an innocent look. "Oh, but I'm surprised she didn't tell you, Foreman. That girl that was here w_ould_ be a nice addition to the team as Cameron pointed out."

"She won't do anything for you if you can't remember her name," I snapped at him.

He smirked at my anger. "Now, you of all people will know that's not true, Cameron. She'll be so happy she was chosen for my team she'll do anything I ask."

I jumped to me feet. Knowing what he said was true I was furious but I heard his next words.

"Besides, I know it's Palmer. Just like the old couple from 'All My Children'."

As I grabbed the coffee pot to fill it with water I heard Foreman jump in the conversation. "I thought you watched 'General Hospital'."

"You have to get variety," House explained.

I was holding the pot with my one hand and body while I reached up for filters with the other. I was distracted as I justified with myself that I was making coffee for myself and Foreman when the already slick pot from my cleaning slid enough to hit the countertop, crack all the way to the rim then explode against me. I stared as I watched blood ooze from gashes in my hand and wrist then at the fractured glass. "Shit," was all I could manage.

"Cameron!" House and Foreman were at my side nanoseconds later, House taking my hand and gently removing a piece of glass, causing the cut to bleed more freely. "What the hell!" he mutter under his breath.

Foreman rushed off for bandages as I watched House's tight gaze find another sliver. "Ow!" I flinched as he yanked it out.

"Suicide is never an answer," he snarked at me, now peering at my wrist.

I had to roll my eyes. "I should get hazard pay for trying to make _your_ coffee."

He snorted then stuck our bloody hands under the cool water at the sink. "Now you have to get us another pot."

"Make your new pet do it," I snarled, hand throbbing, stomach hurting, not feeling very good-natured.

He smiled at me. "You're still jealous. Even after this weekend."

"Shut up, House," I muttered then looked down to see why my abdomen was stinging. "Well, hell," I said, irritated. "And I really liked this shirt."

House looked down and swore as he released my hand and, lifting my shirt slightly, placed his wet hands on my bare skin. The cut he revealed was not terribly deep, my shirt padding me somewhat.

"Damn, Cam," Foreman said when he returned with supplied. "You took that coffee pot out."

"It looked at me funny," I joked as I watched House's deft hands administer a bandage cloth and tape to the cut.

He took my hand out of the water, held it above my heart and frowned as the blood quickly tried to run down my arm. "You need stitches."

I groaned. "Are you sure? Can't you just try to tape it first? See if that helps?"

He instead used some paper towels and applied enough pressure to make me wince. He didn't bother to apologize. When he finally checked it again we both noticed there wasn't much progress. "You're getting stitches. Come on."

I rolled my eyes at Foreman but dutifully followed House as I held pressure on my wounds. "House," I asked as we got into the elevator, "isn't this a bit over-the-top? I mean, I can go by myself."

"I was going to do your stitches if they were busy, Cameron." He laughed at my quickly pallid face. "Are you afraid of ME doing your minor surgery?"

"You haven't had your coffee yet." I was a little unstable as we landed on the main floor but if he noticed he didn't say anything.

The nurse approached. "Oh my goodness, Dr. Cameron! What happened?"

"Death by coffee," House told her.

"Would you like me to get someone to help you?"

I gestured gingerly to my companion. "I brought my own help. We just need supplies and a room."

I let House tell her- demand, actually- everything he needed while I searched for available quarters.

I was settled into an empty bed I found but didn't have to wait long to be joined by House. I watched him joyfully jab a long needle that injected the pain killer to my hand and wrist.

"House," I said, "I don't know about this."

He grinned at me. "Too late now." He gave the lidocaine a minute to numb my skin then poked me with the needle. I flinched and he looked up, surprised. "You feel that?"

"No," I admitted.

He smirked. "Turn your hand. I want to get this over with before you bleed completely out."

It didn't take House long to suture my two cuts up but I refused to look on the principle that it was my own body and not a random patient's. Once he placed a layer of gauze to catch any extra blood and wrapped my hand and wrist in a self sticking ACE bandage he leaned over and pulled my shirt up to expose my midriff once again. "Hey, watch it, buddy," I said, playfully. "We're at work."

"Gotta give them something to gossip about," he answered back before his gentle fingers removed some of the tape to check that scratch. He replaced it, seemingly satisfied, then held out his hand to help me stand.

I looked at his shirt then down at mine. "Good grief, House. We look like we've been involved in a massacre."

He shrugged as he steered me out of the ER area and back towards the elevator bank. "You did do a good job in offing the coffee pot."


	12. Chapter 12

I rested my hand on my stomach as I laid back on the couch in House's office, too much in pain as the lidocaine wore off to argue with him. In the conference room I could hear him talking to Foreman through the propped open door.

"Where are you going?" my coworker asked our boss.

"Store," House answered. "I read somewhere that patients aren't known to have confidence in their doctors if they show up bloody."

"You have extra shirts."

"Which I will change into before going out. Palmer's info is on my desk. Call her and tell her if she wants a job she needs to show up with some coffee. And none of that decaf crap."

The sound of pills in a medicine bottle near my head caused me to open my eyes. I eyed the bottle in House's hand suspiciously. "I'm not taking Vicodin," I told him, crossly.

He lifted an eyebrow. "What makes you think I would be offering?" He thrusted the bottle at me. "Prescription strength ibuprofen."

I accepted the pills and the mug of water. "So, the store, huh?"

"Have to get a new coffee pot somehow."

I rolled my eyes before shifting to a sitting position, careful of my throbbing hand. "A field trip."

House beamed. "Perfect excuse to escape, don't you think. Later."

I watched him leave out of his office before taking my medicine and lying back down.

I woke up with a start as a door close slammed shut. Damn House, I thought as I cautiously sat up. Ibuprofen my ass. I saw Dr. Lisa Cuddy wildly gesturing towards Foreman and decided to do him a favor. As I opened the connecting doors my ears were assaulted by Cuddy's exasperated voice.

"I don't care _where_ House went or _why_," she was saying. "I want to know _when_ he's going to be back to do his J-O-B."

Since it hurt to jar it I cradled my arm against my stomach and leamed on the wall closest to me. "Is there something we can help you with, Dr. Cuddy?" I asked in hopes of deflecting her anger.

She threw me an impatient smile, barely looking at me. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Dr. Cameron. Do you know when your fearless leader will return?"

"Any minute now," I answered, hoping it was true.

She narrowed her eyes in thought. "Good. Since he'll only hide if he knows I'm looking for him I'll just wait for him to come back. And don't you _dare_ call him to warn him." As she headed to House's office she got her full look at me. Her eyes widened in surprise. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I cut myself," I said, simply.

"Are you ok?"

I grimaced as I flexed my stiff hand. "I'll heal."

Palmer walked in as Cuddy walked out and I happily grabbed the coffee she handed me without a word about the bandages and blood. Foreman must have filled her in already.

What she did say was, "So, is it always so exciting working for Dr. House?"

Foreman and I both snorted. "You don't know the half of it," he told her.

She smiled as we sat at the table. "I suppose I passed the working interview. What happens next?"

I answered her. "Necessary paperwork is filled out and then you are on House's team."

"A slave to his whelms and needs," Foreman added with a smirk. "Your life is now his to command."

Palmer's smiled widened. "Sounds wonderful."

With nothing pressing for us to work on I engaged Palmer into a conversation about our Alta Mater while Foreman laughed at our stories of various faculty members and classwork.

House walked in while Palmer was doing a dead on impression of Dr. Marvin Sides, the philosophy professor. "Don't you have any work to do?" he asked as he walked to the counter and placed down the shopping bag.

"No," Foreman and I answered in unison.

He dug in the bag and unearthed a brown shirt which he tossed at me.

I caught it left-handed and looked at the tee. On the front were three yellow triangles and the caption, "Save the princess, save the world." "For me?" I asked, stupidly.

House rolled his eyes as he opened the box he had brought containing a new coffee pot. "Well, duh. You _do_ have blood all over your other one."

"Thank you, House." I stood. "By the way, Cuddy's waiting for you in your office." His snarl followed me out in the hallway as I made my way to the bathroom to change.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry it has been so long! I will do better!**

* * *

Once changed I passed Cuddy in the hall back to my office. She looked pleased with herself.

"Get what you needed?" I asked her in passing.

She smiled. "Yes, in fact I did. Congratulations on adding Dr. Palmer to the staff. I'm sure she'll learn a lot from you, Cameron."

"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy. I'll try my best."

"I know you will." Humming, she went her way to the elevator.

When Wilson showed up for lunch he made a major ordeal over my bandaged hand so I was treated to a trip to the cafeteria while Foreman and House reenacted the coffee pot incident. Palmer followed behind, snickering not-so-subtlely while I blushed and scowled accordingly.

I had just finished my salad when my beeper went off. Everyone at the surrounding tables went for their buzzer as well, which would have been amusing if it hadn't been mine. I frowned confused at the message. "Seems I have something at the front desk."

"Do you want me to get it for you?" Wilson, ever the gentleman, asked.

House's smirk made the decision for me. "Thanks, but I'll go see." I ignored his snicker and walked determinedly to the front desk.

The first thing I noticed as I approached the welcome center was a _huge_ bouquet of various flowers. As I got closer I realized the person holding the crystal vase was a familiar face.

"Stephen!" I exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

His cute beginning smile started to falter. "Um, I wanted to bring you this. I hope it's alright that I came."

I completed my journey and bent my neck to smell the garden before me. "Yes, of course. I'm just surprised is all. Thank you."

Stephen's smile spread again. "I know I was supposed to wait a few more days according to 'guy code' but I found I didn't want to wait that long to talk to you."

I laughed. "I think 'guy code' is over-rated. Could you help me carry the flowers upstairs?" I held my injured hand up.

His eyebrows lifted. "Guess that's the hazards of your profession."

I snorted. "Pretty much."

Once we were in the conference room he set the flowers down and turned to me. "I was going to call you but I thought in person would be better."

I smiled shyly. "I honestly thought my co-worker had spooked you."

He rolled his eyes with a grin. "It takes more than a jealous ex-boyfriend to scare the likes of me."

"Good, because Chase seems to be on a roll," I muttered.

Stephen chuckled. "Nice shirt, by the way."

"Thanks," I told him, slightly embarrassed. "It's House's joke."

That got a curious look from him. "You let your boss pick out your shirt?"

"When I had my accident blood got all over my shirt," I explained. "House bought this shirt for me."

"That was nice of him." Stephen stepped closer and took my uninjured hand. "So, are you free this Friday night?"

I smiled up at him. "At the moment I am. Depends on the sickly patients."

"I'll bar the door to keep them from coming," he jested.

"Then I guess it's a date," I told him.

He stepped even closer. "There was one thing we forgot, Allison."

"What's that?"

I knew what he was going to do so I angled my face and met him halfway. It was the kiss of someone who was trying hard not to try hard. A typical first kiss. A typical first kiss if your life involved nosy co-workers and an interruption of a crashing open glass door.

"DA!" House exclaimed exuberantly as his frozen eyes took in my blushing face then fixated on Stephen's. "Glutton for punishment?"

"House!" I hissed at him. "His name is Stephen."

Wilson looked at all of us curiously from his place by the door. "Does your friend have a last name, Cam?" he asked, clearly wanting to be introduced.

"She probably doesn't know it," House said with a narrowed look. "She doesn't need it to kiss him. After all, this is _Cameron_ we're talking about."

The insinuation that I was "easy" didn't escape my attention. My blush grew as I turned to Stephen. "You'll have to excuse Dr. House. He gets a little cranky if he doesn't get his afternoon rest, due to his age and all."

Stephen looked between myself and House and smartly picked up that we were highly perturbed with each other. "Actually, Allison, I need to get back to work. I'll pick you up Friday." He bravely kissed my cheek then walked towards Wilson.

"Here," Wilson gallantly said, "I'll walk you out."

House and I glared at each other, ignoring the silent Foreman and Palmer who were taking in everything. House pointed towards his office with his cane. "After you," he said, icily.

I stomped into his den then crossed my arms as I watched his enter and unnecessarily slam the separating door. I watched my co-workers scramble out of the conference room, unwilling to risk our wraith, before I glared at him. "What is your problem?"

He looked at me surprised. "MY problem? I walk into the office to find a team member kissing a _patient_ while on the clock and you want to know what _my_ problem is?"

"Oh, cut the crap, House."

"Excuse me?" was his only reply.

My voice rose with my temper. "What, you're deaf now?"

His mouth made a thin line. "No. I can honestly say my hearing hasn't been affected by my _age_."

I winced but continued on. "You called me a whore!"

He had the nerve to shrug. "You got another word for someone who jumps from one guy to the next?"

I balled my fists and forced myself to take a few breaths. "House, if you would just admit you're jealous--"

He immediately interrupted. "I am _not_ jealous of that sickly kid."

"Then what?"

He was quiet for a minute then said, "I know I'm a better kisser."

I had to smile. "Maybe. But that's only part of it."

House made a face. "We tried dating, Cameron. Didn't work."

"We tried ONE date, house. And while a fancy dinner might work for some it might not work for others. We, I, tried to force it."

"You're going to make me do this, aren't you," he asked, resigned.

I shook my head, sadly. "I'm not going to make you do anything, House. But I will say if you don't do anything you will lose me." I headed for the door but House saying my name stopped me.

"Fancy might be your style but I know for a fact you like _me_ and want _me_ a hell of a lot more than _him_."

I hid my smile until I was out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Getting to the good parts! Sorry about the long time...I have a friend in the hospital and was stressed....too stressed to write. how bogus is that! Enjoy!**

* * *

_Friday night_: Stephen was once again prompt for our date. He had told me he was taking me somewhere nice so I once again dressed in a dress- bright green this time. It gave me a great opportunity to wear my new shoes I had bought on a whelm. I had curled my hair and then pinned some back with a silver butterfly barrette, letting some tendrils frame my face.

"You're beautiful," he told me as he gave me a kiss, gentle enough not to disturb my lipstick.

The comment brought a blush to my face. "Thanks."

"Do you like sushi? I know this great place across town."

I smiled. "Sounds good."

I didn't mind sushi but I never craved it. Regardless, we went to the place he had in mind.

He ordered us some sake and California rolls to start, which I appreciated since the menu was_ not_ in English and then we settled into conversation.

"I see you still have your bandages," he said. "When do your stitches come out?"

I reflexively looked at my right hand. "House looked at them today and said he'd probably take them out on Monday."

"Dr. House?" Stephen repeated. "You let _him_ touch your wound?"

I laughed as I took a sip of the warm saké. "While I'm sure you perceive him of taking perverse pleasure in hurting people he was actually kinda gentle." Of course I had to add, "After he jabbed me with a needle."

He chuckled. "I don't see how you can work with him."

I stopped my immediate impulse to defend House and instead took another drink. "You mean to tell me you don't work for opinionated pig headed men?"

His pretty mouth quirked into a smile. "Now that you mention it my bosses are female but they fit that description."

Stephen was a main designer for an advertisement agency. His stories of work tended to be more chipper and less to do with the inner workings of the human body that generally shouldn't be discussed at the dinner table so I let him dominate the conversations while we were eating.

He was pitching racy captions to make me laugh when I heard the tone that told me I had received a text. Against my best judgment I checked my phone.

_--Fancy restaurant???_

I was proud of myself for not rolling my eyes.

"You need to leave?" Stephen asked, concerned.

"Just a patient update," I lied as I typed "_y_" in response then shoved it back in my purse.

Not a minute late we heard it again. Two minutes after the first ignored message another came.

"Call them," Stephen urged.

"It's not necessary," I assured him. I reached down to grab the phone and cut it off. I vowed to lay some rules to House the next time this occurred. Or leave my phone off.


	15. Chapter 15

_Saturday night_: House was predictably late for our "date". Even though we reconfirmed our plans before leaving work that day I was sure he had bailed on me.

I was starting to chastise myself for allowing my feelings to get stomped on again when there was a pounding on my door. I grabbed my little black sensible purse and opened the door. "You're late," I had to tell him.

The blue in his Beatles shirt made his eyes stand out more than usual. "Well, duh. When have I ever been on time for anything?" He looked at me from head to toe then smirked. "Aw, sweetheart, you shouldn't have," he said, sarcastically.

I had discarded the dresses and pant suits for jeans and a fitted tee. "Bite me," I told him as I grabbed my keys and shut the door behind me. "Where are we going?"

He grinned as we walked down the hall. "Well, thought about raw fish but then your starving artist stole that from me."

"House! You're not supposed to know about that."

"Know thy competition," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, I can afford to feed us cooked food."

He took me to a place called Katie's Kitchen, as hole in the wall as you could get. The burger was the best I had ever had and the fries were to die for although House ended up stealing half of them. The draft beer was cold and fresh.

"How'd you find this place?" I asked in wonder.

House flashed a grin. "Allison, always remember I know _everything_."


	16. Chapter 16

For the first time in my life I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. Poor Stephen had no idea he was being followed by House to try to prove how much I really wanted him.

When Stephen took me to the fancy restaurant House took me to a down-home place. Stephen took me to a chick-flick House opted for a Rugby game. I went to a musical at the theatre then was presented rock concert tickets. The musical had us about ten rows back from the orchestra. Not to be outdone, we had tickets so close to the stage I could see the color of Anthony Kiedis' eyes.

On the ride home from the concert I was still bouncing in my seat with excitement. It seemed House was snickering at me but I could never quite catch him in the act.

He walked me up to my apartment, something I was getting used to.

"I had a really good time tonight, Greg." I said. We had started the first name as a trail basis, also something I was getting used to.

His eyes seemed darker than normal. "I bought you tickets, a shirt, and a drink. Aren't you going to invite me in, Allison?"

My stomach did a flip. "Would you like to come in?" I managed.

"Get the damn door open, Cameron," he growled.

As soon as we were locked inside my apartment he simply pounced, his hungry mouth on mine. Necessity for breath made us break the heavy kiss.

House put his forehead on mine, breathing heavy. "God, your bouncing. I almost dragged you into a bathroom. I almost pulled the car over."

I pulled his head towards din and placed our lips together.

"Are you sure?" he hoarsely asked me at one point.

"Such patience should be rewarded," I told him with a smile.

"Then take off your new concert shirt before I rip it off of you."


	17. Chapter 17

A beeper going off was what woke me the morning after the concert. A curse and the beeper falling to the floor made my eyes pop open. Seeing House's outstretched hand had me scrambling to rescue the beeper, knowing the pain he was in.

It was his so I handed it to him, blushing as I realized he was staring at me and the lack of clothes. I grabbed his shirt, which was closer, and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair.

When I went back to the bedroom he already had his jeans on and was dry swallowing his medication.

"I have water, you know."

He looked at me closely. "I'm going to need that shirt."

The lack of leer in his voice or face made my abdomen turn to stone. "Greg, what's wrong?"

He took a step towards me and I automatically stepped back, fearful. "We have a patient."

I suddenly couldn't look at him. Numb, I took his shirt off and tossed it to him then walked stoically to the closet. I had him...I had him...I _had him_! And I've already lost him.

I had managed to put on a bra and panties when House turned me around to face him. He looked pissed. "Damnit, Cameron, don't you dare so this. Now is not the time for your self doubt and pity."

My anger flared. "Oh, ok, House. Let's just check your schedule, coordinate it with mine and we can work in pity for me and hatred for you. How's the third Wednesday of the month?"

"Lousy," he snapped back. "Seems we have a patient who may or may not be dead by then. Get dressed. I'm driving."

"What? No!"

He arched an eyebrow. "While I totally approve of this new wardrobe you have Cuddy might say otherwise."

I snatched a shirt and khakis from where I stood. "You are not driving me, House."

"Non-negotiable."

"No!" I said again. "What we do in our personal time is none of their business. Please don't take this to work," I pleaded.

He had started to turn away but he looked at me and caressed my cheek. "Allison, this isn't about us. People will understand."

We were to the car when I had a though. "Why will people understand, Greg? Who exactly is our patient?"


	18. Chapter 18

Once at the hospital House took my arm and basically dragged me to our office.

I jerked free. "Damnit, Greg, I will not be treated like a child. I am going to see Stephen."

"Allison, wait. We need to talk about this first."

I crossed my arms, unsure if my anger at House was justified but I knew it was as good as an outlet as any. "Don't tell me you're going to play the jealous boyfriend now of all times. Because that's not you."

He walked up and placed his hands on my arms. "I don't know exactly why he is here other than he asked for me. I need to know if you can be on this case or not."

I opened my mouth but he cut me off.

"Think about it first," he warned. "You choose to help then get too emotional and hinder me I'll have to kick your ass and then you'll break it off with me and I'll be forced to kill the patient on principle."

"I understand," I told him then stepped into his unwilling embrace to get a few minutes of comfort.

He finally squeezed me and let go, nodding towards the conference room. "I would kiss you but I seem to recall you telling me you didn't want our personal lives and professional ones clashing."

I turned and saw Palmer and Foreman had arrived. "You can make it up to me later," I told him then went to join my coworkers.

Foreman gave me a small hug. "Cameron, I'm so sorry."

Palmer patted my shoulder. "We'll find out what's wrong with your boyfriend."

"Thank you," I told them both, not figuring out a good way to explain Stephen was _not_ my boyfriend so I just left it.

House acted like he hadn't heard them or me. "Stephen Black, 34, came in complaining of chest pain, shortness of breath, heartbeat irregular. History of pleurisy treated by our own Dr. Cameron several weeks ago."

"Recurrent illness?" suggested Palmer.

"He had no signs of scarring on his x-ray," I told her.

Foreman turned to me. "Was he having any symptoms last night?"

I flushed. "I wasn't with him last night," I said.

He looked confused. "I thought you mentioned a concert when you were leaving."

"But I _never_ mentioned I was dating him exclusively," I pointed out.

House tapped his cane on the board to get our attention. "Cameron's social life is not really the issue here. Work me up some blood work, CBC, D-Dimer, I want an echocardiogram and EKG then once myocardial infraction is ruled out I want a repeat chest x-ray and a CT scan with PE protocol."

I went into Stephen's room first to see him and let him know what was happening. He was awake when I walked in.

"Allison, hey," he said, softly.

I smiled at him. "If you wanted to see me you could have just called," I joked.

He gave me a smile. "Instead I'm a sickly patient interrupting your weekend."

"No," a voice came behind me as House walked in the room, "she would normally be here. You're interrupting _my_ weekend."

"I didn't think about that. When they asked me if I had a doctor here I thought of Allison."

House came forward some. "You request Cameron, you request me."

Stephen stiffened some. "Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you with my illness," he said sarcastically.

"House," I hissed at him. "Be nice."

He gave me the 'who, me?' look before addressing our patient. "An intern could have diagnosed you but instead your easy case will count for one of _my_ successes and give Dr. Cuddy a reason not to harass me for days."

"That's his way of saying 'thank you'," I said to Stephen.

House nudged me. "Don't push it," he warned me. "Well, I'm convinced he's not having a heart attack. Let's go ahead with that x-ray and CT scan first then go from there, Cam."

Stephen looked at me. "What's wrong with me?"

I smiled at him. "I've told you before I don't believe in guessing. Let's get these tests and in a couple of hours I should be able to tell you for a fact what you have and how we'll treat you."

Several hours found us in House's office as he squinted at the CT scan film he was holding up. We had the light boxes he could have used but doctor habits were hard to break.

"House?" Foreman asked, brave enough to break the silence.

"Pulmonary embolism," he said decisively. "Question is was this preventable by giving the correct diagnosis the _last_ time chest pain was present?"

I flushed at the implication but shoved the past chest x-rays at him. "I stand by my diagnosis of pleurisy," I haughtily informed him.

He looked at the images. "You take all of the fun out of it, Cam," he whined.

His office door opened. "House!" Wilson greeted, ultimately interrupting our improv meeting. "I didn't expect you to come in at all after the concert last night."

My eyes met with House's before we both looked at Wilson with a death glare. The curious eyes of Foreman and Palmer were hot on my face.

"Pulmonary embolism, people," House piped up, calling attention back to him solely. "Give the guy Heparin and Warfarin. I want him off my bed _before_ he dies."

"House!"

He looked at me and nearly winced. "Sorry," he said, halfway meaning it. "I forgot."

I walked out to tell Stephen the news while I heard Wilson. "What's going on, House?"

"Wait until the freaking door is closed for God's sakes!" following us down the hall.

"Uh, Cameron?" Foreman broached me.

"Not a good time," I broke him off.

I stayed in Stephen's room long after the anti-coagulates were positioned in his IV. I didn't know how long I was there, sitting at his bedside, feeling guilty while I watched him sleep but after some point his door opened gently.

"Allison?"

I turned my head to look at House. "Hey. What did you end up saying to Wilson?"

He grimaced. "The truth. Sort of."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

"I glazed over parts I thought would make you blush."

I snorted. "How kind of you."

"You want to control what is said _you_ stay and get jumped."

I stood. "Look, I was stuck with _two_ curious coworkers so let's step back and examine who got the better end of the deal."

"I got an idea."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, here we go," I muttered.

"Let's just take out an ad announcing we're sleeping together. It'll cut down on us having to explain it fifty times and saves you from breaking it to Lover Boy."

I glanced down at the sleeping patient. "I feel horrible about this whole thing," I admitted.

He narrowed his icy blue eyes. "You told me to make my choice. Now I'm putting that to you. Make your choice, Allison."

I studied his fierce face. Yes, he had made his choice and behind his anger I could see his fear. I forced him to put it on the line when I made him pursue me. I walked around the bed to stand in front of him. "There is no choice to make, Greg. I made it a long time ago."


	19. Chapter 19

House- Greg- and I were lying in his bed. I had my head on his chest, my hand on his stomach as I was being soothed to sleep by his hand stroking my bare back.

He broke the silence. "Allison," he said, hesitantly.

I froze.

"There's something I need to tell you."

I sat up and wrapped his sheet around me. "What is it?"

He opened his mouth when the home phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID. "It's the hospital."

"Ignore it," he growled.

I snatched the receiver. "Hello?"

"May I speak to Dr. House?"

I swallowed. We only had one patient. The embolism could have moved..."This is Dr. Cameron. What's wrong?"

If the nurse was surprised at hearing House's subordinate's name as the answerer at 1:30 in the morning her voice didn't betray her. "Dr. Cameron, I am calling to tell you that patient Black has requested a change of doctors immediately."

I frowned and addressed House. "Stephen wants another doctor."

House, for his part, did not look surprised. "Let him go."

"Did he say why?" I asked the nurse.

"He said he was a minor case for Dr. House and he didn't want to get in the way if someone needed help."

"Tell the patient I'll talk to him in the morning," I said.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but he insisted he be moved immediately."

"But--"

House took the phone from my hands. "This is Dr. House. I will ok the transfer."

"House!" I opened my mouth to argue when he hung up the phone.

"Cameron, calm down. Black has a right to move. You own him that."

I blinked at him. "I don't understand."

He sighed. "He was awake."

"Awake? What do you..." I trailed off as understanding dawned on me.

"I saw him open his eyes as you made your choice."

I was horrified. "Why didn't you stop me!"

He held up his hands. "I was powerless to stop you since you went all seductive succubus,"

"Oh, how horrible!"

He had the nerve to smirk. "It wasn't too horrible in my view. That kiss you laid on me and then that hip twist--"

"Shut up!" I told him. "This is not funny."

"I disagree. I can't understand why you're upset when something you've been stressed about is taken care of. You didn't even have to worry about a face to face. It's perfect."

"You! You...you..." My anger was flagged by the truth of his thoughts. I finally sighed. "I would have liked to have talked to him personally to explain things."

He snorted. "Explain what? 'Stephen'," he mimicked me, "'I've always been in love with my boss. I'm sorry I used you to catch his interest but it all worked out for me. So, thanks for the memories. Ciao.'" He smiled. "See, easy as pie."

I glared at him. "That's not exactly how it happened."

His smiled disappeared. "I thought you made your choice."

"A choice isn't made without creating consequences, House."

"You have to face those consequences to fully commit to your choice," he sternly told me, glaring at me as I continued to glare at him.

"I'm facing them, damnit! Just not as gracious as I thought it would be."

He moved closer. "You're better off with him," he murmured.

I sucked in a breath. "Why are you saying that?"

"You have to consider this...thing we have together will probably not last. It will explode and leave nothing. That Black," he hissed his name, "could possibly give you more."

Instead of responding with words I grabbed his head and gave him a searing kiss. The way his kissed back confirmed my belief. I broke it as quick as I started it and put my hands on his scruffy face. "House. Greg. It's you. I picked you. It's you that I love."

His blue eyes widened in surprise. "Huh?"

I swallowed nervously but continued. "I love you, Greg."

He didn't seem to know how to respond so I kissed him again.

"Cameron..." he tried.

I smiled. "You don't have to say anything."

He grabbed me and pushed me on my back, him looming above me, eyes questioning.

I pressed my arms around his neck. "I know what I'm getting into."

He smirked before he began to kiss me senseless.


End file.
